


as loud as you can make it

by light_rises



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ableism, Autistic Chara, Autistic Frisk, Disabled Character, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sharing a Body, Stimming, Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_rises/pseuds/light_rises
Summary: On habits, and solidarity between people who aren't quite friends (but will be).Or: Early on, Frisk makes an unannounced pitstop, and Chara connects the dots. Frisk ends up returning the favor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's that time of year again and this fic is a mote of a response, spilled out quick and dirty.
> 
> No "quiet hands" here, now or ever.

You've reached one of the clearings in Snowdin Forest when you decide that you can't stand it anymore, and you hunker down next to a snowpoff.

It's not that you're tired. Which... you are, sure, along with anxious, and still a little wary of monster magic if you're to be honest, and, uhh, you're down about a third of your health, but... you're actually having a better time out here than you expected? You've heard some good (bad) jokes and met a silly puzzlemaster, and you've petted some very soft dogs. Even if you're nursing a bit of a headache now, those parts have been nice.

What it really comes down to is that you're sick of your hands feeling _stuck_ —pinned down and unfussed, for lack of a better way to put it. Holding your stick helps, but you favor one side too much when walking to switch it between hands very often, and what you _really_ want involves both, so...

So. Chara aside, no one's looking. At least, you think. That bare-bones reassurance will have to do.

Thinking about them must have summoned Chara's attention, because the instant your hands come together you feel their presence lean in, phantom pressure against your consciousness like someone looking over your shoulder (you make a face, but they're just being nosey, so, whatever).

... Though Chara was a kid about your age, weren't they? And they're not always the nicest. If you keep at this and they get annoyed, what's to stop them from—

_You're stimming._

They're not loud, but you jump and tip back-first towards the snow before catching yourself anyway. _Chara!!_

 _It just dawned on me_. They don't make the slightest indication of having startled you, which... is typical, more or less. But they don't sound perturbed, either.

That shifts you from irritated to curious. What was that word they used, again?

 _'Stimming'?_ you ask.

 _The thing you're doing with your hands. Or, started to._ Your gaze slants downward, one part reflex and other part Chara's initiative, to your left thumb frozen in place between two of your right knuckles. _It was... to be frank, you were doing an awful job of hiding it?_

_Hiding what?_

_How much you've been wanting to do that! It's been **hours** , Frisk._

Your gut clenches, the rest of you frantically prodding the _I was trying to be good_ out of Chara's sight. Nothing different surfaces to take its place.

As Chara is wont, they bluster on. _Okay, wait. This..._ They trail off, something inscrutable sparking at the fringes of their next thought: _You really don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?_

Your lips clamp tight. _I don't know, should I?_ Wow, a sweet comeback! And now you feel bad. No one deserves your weird barbs, even when it's Chara and they're being like this. _Ugh, sorry, I_ _—_

They wave you off. _Whatever. I'm just..._ They make a noise that's a little too unruly to be a "hmm." _I... I never heard the end of it, myself. It's hard to conceive of you_ not _knowing. All things considered._

A switch flips in you; your chest swells with a caustic-hot mix of exposure and empathy and... and a sort of relief?

Chara hasn't told you to stop fiddling with your hands, either. Hmm.

You run the tip of your tongue over your teeth, thinking. _Well_ , you start, _you did die a long time ago, right?_

_... True enough._

"Mmm." You readjust how your legs are crossed, leaning away from the snowpoff at your back. _I wasn't told much, aside from how I needed to stop_ , you confess, eyes closing. _'Hands down, at your side. It's distracting. It's_ ** _weird_** _.'_ You reopen one eye, cautious. _You... know?_

A jolt fizzes through Chara. It brushes up against you too, with a familiarity that makes you want to take one of their hands in your own and give it a squeeze, to make the acid you share seem a little less potent, maybe (not that they'd want you to, or that it's possible to hold their hand anyway, so).

Shifting the topic a little would have to suffice, then. _What did_ you _do to... 'stim'? Did I get that right?_

 _Oh, uh. Yes?_ Chara seems... flustered? Caught off-guard, for sure. You'd smirk, or at least project one if you didn't suspect it would make them want to drop the subject altogether. _I would... I bit my nails. I'm still not entirely sure that counts, but it seemed to help me self-regulate whenever I got antsy? Um._ That thought starts to creep in a certain direction, but Chara shunts it away and into, _Oh, pacing! A lot of that, when I got excited or needed the sense of movement to... think... better?_

Your hands slap the snow on either side of you, drumming it. _I do that too!!_

 _Oh! Oh._ Chara's shuttering so much from you right now that if you didn't know better (and weren't, like, busy being kind of elated), it'd make you nervous. _I... shit, then._

_What?_

_In retrospect, that explains a lot about you??_

You laugh. Chara grumbles and you try to shove amicability at them between breaths, because you're not laughing _at_ them and being mean, really!

Especially since... well, there's a lot you've failed to notice about Chara, to be fair. And they're as much in your head as you are in theirs, so to speak. You think about this as you use your sweater to brush off the snow that stubbornly—annoyingly, it stings and bites like mottled rocks and feels _wrong,_ why on earth did you try touching it at all—clings to your hands.

... There's one more thing you need to check. Chara can't get away from you in any meaningful sense, after all. You owe them the consideration.

Your fingers interlock in a tentative clasp. _Chara?_

_Hm?_

_Since you brought it up and all, was... the thing I was doing before bothering you? Did you want me to stop?_

They're dead silent. You swallow.

 _Because._ Your hands begin to slip apart. _I can, if you wan_ _—_

 _No._ You freeze. The sound of someone taking a very, very stiff breath echoes between your ears. _In fact_ , they go on, with a tightness that draws you in, _actually, Frisk? Do it as much as you want. Do it_ ** _anywhere_** _._

If Chara expects you to respond, you have nothing.

Another fake inhale, and Chara finishes: _If anyone gives you a hard time about it, you have my unfettered support in kicking their ass to the curb._

You're still at a loss, something rare distracting you as it flutters beneath your ribs like the play of light against rain.

The words do come, eventually. _That's... nice of you._

_It isn't, really._

_I mean, the thought behind it is._

_Still not really._

You shrug, scratching the back of one ear. They can believe what they want. _The thing is, I'm trying not to kick anyone's ass if I can avoid it? In case that wasn't obvious._

 _See, now THAT'S nice. Barring the sarcasm._ You snort, and Chara flaps a ghosthand. _I consider fleeing another viable option, in case_ that _wasn't obvious_ , they add.

 _Maybe I'll take you up on that._ With that, you undergo the careful business of getting to your feet. Your hip is behaving enough at the moment that you could do without your stick for the walking part, probably; your hands come together accordingly, held aloft like a completed circle.

And you walk, fingertips fussing and kneading and brushing over every crevice and bump on your hands, Chara's presence waiting in the wings, your pulse hiked up in anticipation of someone, anyone telling you to stop it already.

  
  


(But, this once, nobody does.)


End file.
